


chrysalis

by withoutwords



Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, M/M, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24088831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: Travis catches a glimpse of Emmett’s drawing, which is mostly just a blur of blue and green and yellows at this point. He tips the page to get a better look. “What’s that?”“That park we went to last weekend, you remember?”“Yeah, I loved that place,” Travis says, like Emmett wouldn’t know that. Like Emmett doesn’t remember everything he says.(Or, Five times Emmett drew something for Travis and one time Travis drew something for Emmett.)
Relationships: Emmett Dixon/Travis Montgomery
Comments: 25
Kudos: 131





	chrysalis

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for them, I just saw Emmett had turned that corner and had a sudden urge to write it. Thanks and hope you enjoy!

**i.**

Emmett’s never been great at drawing faces. It might mean a lot of Freudian-style shit about him hiding behind a mask for most of his life - or it might just mean that he’s bad at what he does.

Honestly, he’s not sure which would be worse.

“What’re you doing?” Travis grumbles into his pillow, waking up to see Emmett cross legged on the bed and sketching him. He’s been asleep for a half a day, having called Emmett to pick him up from the station and go back to his place.

Emmett liked it, having Travis here. Carving out a space of his own. 

“Practising,” Emmett tells him as he fills out one last line and smiles up at him. 

“What, stalking?”

Emmett throws a pencil at his bare back, putting the sketch pad aside to crawl over. “Drawing, asshole. Just trying to get that nose of yours right.”

“Fuck you,” Travis says with a laugh, rolling onto his back to welcome Emmett’s kiss. It’s rough and sour and Emmett pulls a face at him, but doesn’t protest when Travis rolls them over and gets Emmett beneath him. 

“Now, what?”

“I wanna see.”

Emmett scoffs, getting legs around Travis’ own, scratching low at his back with dull nails. “You’ve seen a lot.”

“No, this.” Travis groans as he sits up, reaching for Emmett’s sketch pad. Emmett lounges back and watches him look over the drawing, watches the flex and fold of his muscles and the smooth stretch of his skin. He reaches over, let’s his fingers play at Travis’ belly and hips, at the waistband of his underwear and below. “Wow.”

Emmett looks up from where he’s been distracted to see that Travis’ expression has gone soft, amazed. “This is really good, Emmett.”

“It’s alright,” he says with a shrug, feeling himself blush with the compliment. Less about the art, and more about the fact it’s Travis who likes it. “Never been good with faces.”

“Forget the false modesty, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Okay, you’re right I’m amazing. You should keep it and treasure it forever.”

“Maybe I will,” Travis says, but he puts it aside and returns to where he was perched above Emmett, boxing him in with that body. “I’ve got other plans for right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” Emmett says, wrapping himself around Travis again, pulling him down. “What’s that?”

“I thought I’d help you practise that stalking.”

“Oh, shut up.”

**ii.**

Alicia was his girlfriend, best friend, only  _ real _ friend, for more than six years. It was a sad thing to admit - and he hasn’t really, not out loud - but Emmett knows it’s true. He lost touch with everyone from high school, and was too scared to make new friends at college for fear of being found out. 

Of being known.

It was the only thing he missed about Station 19. It had taken a while for them to come around, but once they did he’d felt at home. In the kitchen, and rec room and gym. In the tight spaces and sharp corners and places where he could brush past Travis, touch him just for a moment and have it be okay.

“Civillian alert!” Vic calls when the unit gets back from a call, Travis trudging slowly behind her. He smiles dimly when he sees it’s Emmett, slumping into the chair next to him.

“Can I sleep here?” he grumbles, dropping his head to Emmett’s shoulder as the others shuffle in behind him and rustle through the kitchen for food.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Travis catches a glimpse of Emmett’s drawing, which is mostly just a blur of blue and green and yellows at this point. He tips the page to get a better look. “What’s that?”

“That park we went to last weekend, you remember?”

“Yeah, I loved that place,” Travis says, like Emmett wouldn’t know that. Like Emmett doesn’t remember everything he says.

And that’s the difference between them, really. That Travis has had more friends than Emmett could count, has touched more lives than Emmett could probably hope to in his whole life - and Emmett only has Travis.

That will change, he knows it will. But for now he’s not about to lose what he’s got. 

“I know, that’s why I’m drawing it. For you.”

“Aw, soft,” Travis says with a smile, tipping his head up for a quick and gentle kiss. The unit boos and catcalls from behind them, and Emmett just laughs and kisses Travis again.

He knows he belongs right there.

**iii.**   
  


The drawing is in charcoal, which is ironic. It’s not something he thought he’d use, before; but then it had stained his fingertips and gotten into the line of his hands and he’d wondered, and kept wondering. 

The drawing’s in charcoal, and half crumpled on the floor. He hadn’t meant to start it anyway. It’s nothing he wants to keep. 

“Don’t do this, Emmett!” Travis is yelling at him, the smell of smoke smouldering in the air. It makes Emmett want to be sick. “You knew what you signed up for. You’ve seen what I do.”

“It’s different!”

“No, it’s not! I’m a firefighter. It’s my job, it’s my life, and if that means five hours overtime with no outside contact then that’s what it means.”

Emmett doesn’t think before he pushes the now cold pot onto the floor - glass shattering and soup spraying across the kitchen. Travis flinches, but his eyes are still dark and angry. “It’s not about the goddamn food!” Emmett yells back. “It’s not about dinner or making plans or … or …”

“Then enlighten me, probie - ”

“Don’t - ”

“Because if you’re not pissed off about your precious dinner, than,”

“Fuck you! I love you!”

There’s silence after, save the drip of soup from the bench to the floor. Emmett’s never seen Travis look so stunned, his lips fallen open and stammering. “I know you think I don’t, and I know you can’t … I know that you’re not there yet, okay? But I sat here for hours wondering if you were ever going to walk through that door again and I just knew. I love you, and I respect what you do and you amaze me with how good you are but that doesn’t mean I have to like how dangerous it is. That I can’t get angry when I think you’re dead, okay? You don’t get to take that away from me.”

Travis still doesn’t say anything, but he does start to move, picking up the drawing that Emmett abandoned as he gets nearer. It has soup speckled on it too, now, and it’s only good for the bin.

“You draw this to keep your mind busy?” he asks, almost toe to toe with Emmett now. Emmett just nods. “Yeah. For me it’s always cooking.”

“Really?”

“You name it. Dinners, sides, desserts, finger foods. When any of the other guys are out there … that and sudoku.”

Emmett snorts, shaking his head as it drops down to watch their feet. “Idiot.”

“Hey.” Travis nudges Emmett’s chin up with a finger. “You’re right. You … It’s scary when you’re the one on the sidelines, I know.”

When Travis kisses him, Emmett clings to the front of his shirt for a lifeline. The picture floats to the ground, forgotten.

**iv.**

It surprises people to learn he’s not some shrinking flower in bed. Travis was not the first man Emmett had sex with - not the first  _ person _ to be more accurate. Emmett buried himself in denial and buried his denial in a lot of casual sex. As a way to explore his sexuality, his needs, sure - as a big fuck you to his dad's idea of him, more than likely.

It’s not a time in his life he’s proud of.

It’s not any time in his life, really. Just days, and years he got through.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he groans into the rumpled bedding, face smashed against his upper arms as Travis fucks into him slowly. He’s got a leg off the bed and a knee hitched up because they’d been too impatient for gentle foreplay and landed right where they were. 

“Yes,” Travis hisses, cutting fingernails into Emmett’s hips and folding himself over to leave biting kisses on Emmett’s back. “That’s it, beautiful, doing so good, feel so good.”

Emmett yells as Travis bottoms out, straddling the line of pain and pleasure and willing his dick back into the game. It doesn’t take long, Travis starting slow and easy at first before working up a better slick and finding a rhythm.

Emmett gets a hand around himself, shouting at Travis for more as he pushes himself back to meet Travis’ thrusts - the press and catch of his dick in just the right place almost too much to bear. It’s the sound of Travis’ groans and cut off praises that might be the best part of it, the,

“Fuck, yeah, so tight, so good, so, so,” making Emmett laugh and moan all at once.

It’s a mess of skin and pushing and clawing, a mess of filthy sounds that Emmett thrives on. He gets close, and starts pulling at his leaking dick with earnest, warning Travis,

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna,”

He does, in style, almost blacking out as Travis finishes inside of him. Emmett’s only half with it as Travis moves him properly onto the bed, as he gets rid of the condom and curls up next to Emmett’s side.

“That was amazing,” Emmett says with a sigh, making Travis laugh. “What …?”

He doesn’t finish the sentence but he figures Travis will get it. Emmett had just gotten in from work when Travis had launched himself at him, had gotten them both naked in the quickest time known to man.

“You, leaving me wake up notes.”

Emmett remembers. It had been a small piece of paper which he’d drawn a man with a crown on a horse, and left the words,  _ sleep well sweet prince _ . It was the silliest thing he’d ever done. “Seriously?”

“Shut up, it was cute.”

“No, no, that’s good. I’ll use that for next time I wanna be screwed into next week.”

Travis scoffs and pinches Emmett’s side, but it’s tender.

His fingers run through Emmett’s hair and stay there as Emmett drifts to sleep.

**v.**

Travis was married. It’s a fact that eludes Emmett sometimes, a truth that he feels himself hide from. Travis was married, and happy, and this might never have happened, Emmett might never have gotten his chance if Travis hadn’t had that taken away from him.

It’s a shitty thought, and Emmett scolds himself for having it.

Travis has books full of photos and bits and pieces. He didn’t show Emmett, but he didn’t hide it from him either. There’d been a day that Travis had been called in to work and he’d told Emmett to hang out, make himself at home.

Emmett had just stumbled across it.

_Michael_.

Travis had talked about him, about marriage, about a lot of his life. He wasn’t just brave with his body, and his sexuality. He was brave with his heart too, even if it had been broken in so many ways even Travis didn’t know what was left of it.

Emmet or hadn't know true love, or true family.

His heart had never been up for grabs.

“I did this, for your birthday,” Emmett says when he gives Travis the wrapped gift in shaking hands. Travis frowns, around the mouth of his bottle of beer - they were having a quiet night in at Travis’ place and Emmett thought it was as good a time as any. 

“My birthday was ages ago.”

“Well, it’s either that or Christmas so take your pick.”

“Emmett,” Travis starts to say, which he probably plans to follow up with something like,  _ you know I don’t like when you buy me stuff without a reason _ . 

“Come on, just take it.”

Emmett’s heart hammers against his ribs so hard that he’s surprised Travis can’t hear it. His fingernails dig into his thighs as it’s unwrapped - he’d started from the back so he has to flip the frame over.

Travis holds his breath.

“I saw a photo, of the two of you …” Emmett starts to say, but gets lost amongst the words. They’re pointless, really. It’s Travis, and his husband. Who will always be his husband in one way or another.

It felt right to commemorate that.

“Emmett, I …” Travis finally says, tears welling in his eyes, He drags a hand down his face, catching over his mouth. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you like it?” Emmett offers hopefully, feeling his own throat start to stick with the emotions. 

“I love it,” Travis gasps, and he’s letting the picture of him and Michael rest in his lap as he wraps himself around Emmett in a tight embrace. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” Emmett says quietly, squeezing back. “Thought it would look nice with the other photos.”

“Absolutely,” Travis agrees, pulling back for Emmett to see that that tears have fallen now. He wipes them away, and regards the picture again. “It’s definitely taking pride of place. It’s beautiful. Michael would have loved it.”

That, more than anything, fills Emmett with pride.

“I’m glad.”

“Yeah.” Travis lets out a little laugh around his tears, then he’s hugging Emmett again and they’re laughing together. “Thank you.”

**+i**

It’s a Thursday morning. Travis is off shift and Emmett doesn’t work til late and it’s quiet. There’s early morning sun through the window and the blanket hangs half off the bed, and the sheets are a twisted mess around them.

Emmett’s dozing.

“You’re really beautiful, y’know?” Travis tells him quietly, the grin obvious in his voice. Emmett just huffs at him, and doesn’t open his eyes.

“Shut up.”

“It’s true. I mean, you’re sweet and kind, but you’re also just gorgeous.”

Emmett opens his eyes just so he can roll them at Travis, kicking out a leg. “Ugh.”

“Smoking hot.”

“ _ Travis _ .”

“Have I told you what my favourite thing about you is?” Travis goes on, biting at his lip as he shuffles a little closer; grazing feather light touches across Emmett’s back. “All these freckly dots.”

“Really?"

“Absolutely. Like a constellation over your whole body. In fact …”

Emmett frowns as Travis jumps up and disappears form the bedroom. He gets like this sometimes, too much adrenaline that he can’t contain - which is always better than the other side effects of being a firefighter. Still, Emmett sometimes wishes he would just go for a run.

“Here,” Travis says, and it’s the only warning before Travis is straddling him, leaning down on his back.

“What’re you doing?”

“Drawing.”

Emmett gasps at the cool touch of a pen on his back, Travis drawing a long line from one shoulder blade to another. “What the hell?That better not be Sharpie!”

“Relax, it’s dry erase.”

“Oh, great,” Emmett grumbles, accepting his fate and letting his head fall again. “That’s so much better.”

“I’ll scrub it off for you later. Now, what’dya want? Orion? Pegasus?”

“I want to go back to sleep.”

Travis chuckles. “It’s alright, I got it.”

Travis hums as he moves the pen this way and that on Emmett’s back. He’s gentle, and it’s almost soothing, all his soft tapping touches like a gentle rocking of a boat. Emmett’s half asleep again when Travis finally crawls off him some time later.

“Was that fun?”

“Mmmhmm,” Travis says with a smile, leaning in to kiss Emmett’s nose and cheek and mouth. “I think you’ll like it.”

“I like  _ you _ ,” Emmett argues, and they both know what he means.

Travis smiles bigger. “Win-win,” he says, and touches at Emmett’s back.

Touches the stars. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr.](thefancyspin.tumblr.com)


End file.
